Shaft (2000)

reviewed by
Christian Pyle


Shaft
Reviewed by Christian Pyle
Directed by John Singleton
Written by Richard Price
Starring Samuel L. Jackson, Vanessa L. Williams, Jeffrey Wright, Christian 
Bale, and Busta Rhymes
Grade:  A-

There's a new Shaft in town, kids, and he's pissed. In an update to the still-popular 1970's Shaft franchise, NYPD detective John Shaft (Samuel L. Jackson) arrests preppie Walter Wade (Christian Bale of "American Psycho") for bashing a black man's brains out in a racist rage. Wade skips bail and runs off to Switzerland, while Shaft is exiled to a precinct in the slums for punching Wade. Two years later, Shaft is fighting the local drug lord, Peoples Hernandez (Jeffrey Wright of "Basquiat"), when Wade comes back to town. To save his butt, Wade hires Peoples to kill the only witness to the murder (Toni Collette of "The Sixth Sense"). Shaft has to find her first while fighting off corrupt cops (Dan Hedaya and Ruben Santiago-Hudson) and Peoples' thugs. He gets a little help from a fellow cop (Vanessa L. Williams) and a comedy sidekick (Busta Rhymes).

The new "Shaft" is not a remake of the 1971 original. Wisely, the filmmakers take a "next generation" approach. Jackson's John Shaft is the nephew of the original, and "Uncle J." (Richard Roundtree) is still an anti-establishment private eye and is still cool after almost 30 years. Gordon Parks, the director of the original "Shaft," also makes a cameo appearance (sitting in a bar with John Singleton, the director of the new flick), and Isaac Hayes contributes a new rendition of the classic theme song.

So how does the Y2K Shaft measure up? He's certainly "the cat who won't cop out when there's danger all about." Jackson's Shaft is even more tenacious and driven than Roundtree's. He's also "a bad mutha" (shut yo' mouth) who doesn't mind breaking a suspect's nose or pistol-whipping a street punk. But he's not a "black private dick" or a "sex machine with all the chicks." Shaft Jr. seems to remain a quasi-cop even after quitting the force in disgust, and he does only a token bit of sex-machining. Of course, Roundtree's Shaft lived in the hedonistic 70's (and still does -- in one shot Uncle J. leaves a bar with a chick under each arm), while his nephew lives in the post-AIDS era of caution. The potential romance with Officer Carmen (Williams) never comes off either, and she seems strangely like the sexless "girl Friday" characters who aided 40's detectives. Still, the new Shaft is every bit as suave as his namesake and even more sensitive. He's "a complicated man, and no one understands him": the new Shaft is a compelling mixture of streetwisdom and naïve idealism, anger and compassion.

I was worried that this addition to the Shaft series would be an overblown 80's-style action flick in the "Die Hard" tradition with a band of international terrorists taking over something and gigantic explosions aplenty. Luckily, Singleton and screenwriter Richard Price stay true to Shaft as a neighborhood hero. The bad guys are a rich punk with a bad temper and "a two-bit three-block drug dealer," but they provide enough trouble for Shaft to keep the action coming.

At first glance, "Shaft" seems an unusual venture for Singleton, whose four previous films ("Boyz N the Hood," "Poetic Justice," "Higher Learning," and "Rosewood") were all high-minded dramas on serious racial subjects. But his foray into the summer action genre also has more serious overtones. The world Singleton depicts is filled with racism and corruption, both embodied by the white characters and by institutions like the police force and the courts. The political content does not distract from the action, but instead gives it a deeper texture by contextualizing Shaft's righteous anger.

"Shaft" is not only a worthy addition to the 70's series; it's the best of the lot. The story is much tighter and moves faster; the direction is slick and skillful. The performances by Jackson, Bale and Wright are stupendous. This is sure to be the crowd-pleaser of the summer.

Bottom line: Shaft is back, damn right!

© 2000 Christian L. Pyle

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